Chapter Text
Mike Wheeler's alarm had been screaming at him for seventeen minutes before he eventually smacked it into silence. The tie in his hands might have well have been a live snake for how uselessly it slipped through his fingers. He groaned, and with a roll of his eyes, he flipped his phone open to Jane's latest text—“Mike. Hurry. UP!!!”—before hastily chucking it onto the bed without a second thought, mentally reminding himself to reply to her later.
The tie ended up half-knotted, half-strangling his collar and looking, quite literally, like a disaster zone, but there was no time to fix it now. Besides, Mike didn't exactly prioritize learning how to tie a tie in the past while he was preoccupied with fighting goddamn bloodlusting monsters.
He bolted out the door with barely tied sneakers and a backpack threatening to spill its contents across the sidewalk, sprinting down three flights of stairs with determination.
Max's used red shitbox 1979 Honda Civic was already idling at the curb when Mike skidded to a stop beside it, his lungs burning from his unusual use of his lanky limbs and the rare form of exercise. Whose business is it if he’d rather play DND then go to the gym? Fuck off. He yanked the door open and collapsed into the backseat, still catching his breath – immediately wrinkling his nose at the unholy combination of dollar-store fruity perfume and whatever strain of weed Max had been smoking before sunrise.
"Christ, Max," Mike wheezed, kicking an empty Red Bull can under the passenger seat.
"For someone who’s in such a rush, your car sure smells like shit.”
Max glared back at Mike with utter disdain and disgust through the rearview mirror, a degrading look that could kill somebody with a thousand cuts.
“You’re lucky I even considered picking you up at your grown age, jackass.”
Mike swiftly shrugged in return, gaining a small smile of amusement from Jane, whose gaze was flickering between the two bickering.
“Count your blessings,” Max murmured in return.
The ride to NYU took just ten minutes, but the lingering tension from the earlier argument made it feel like they had been traveling for hours.
When they finally arrived, Mike sighed in relief. He got out of the car, slamming the door with unnecessary force to prove a point, continuing to mope towards the Arts and Science block on the campus. Before he had a chance to lament his life choices, his eyes shifted slowly to his left, and his heart stuttered.
Will Byers.
His Will Byers.
Well, not anymore.
The thought made his stomach churn and bile rise in his throat. The subtle reminder was illustrated through a thin necklace, a heart pendant that had the honor of hanging around Will’s soft neck. The tacky silver taunted him from across the courtyard with subtle movements, while Will moved animatedly, seemingly enthralled by the conversation he found himself in, but what truly filled him with visceral rage was that Will preferred gold.
Kayden? No, that's not it.. Kyle?
Who is he kidding? He unfortunately had a plethora of knowledge of that name at this point; it’s the only name that could leave a permanent taste of disappointment and despair in his mouth.
Karter.
What kind of asshole dates a real-life, honest-to-god angel, the literal epitome of beauty, for 28 days — not that he was counting — and doesn't even bother to enquire about what his preference in jewellery is, while being called a barbaric name that’s that utterly humiliating? An irrelevant stranger on the street could recognise that Will preferred gold, but fucking Karter can’t.
“Mike.”
“Mike–”
“Mike?”
“Michael.”
Jane had been trying to redirect Mike’s focus to the conversation at hand for a solid minute and a half. She was aware of Mike’s continuous devotion towards Will, as it was the main factor of why she and Mike had broken up the previous summer. Jane also knew about Will’s obvious feelings for Mike. Well, before he had claimed that it was a “distant memory” that he’d moved on from.
However, Jane wasn’t naive, and she knew her brother better than she knew herself to even believe for a second that his attraction or feelings towards Mike vanished. She was also aware that this boyfriend of his was merely to fill the void that Mike’s absence warranted, but she knew it wasn’t her place to voice her opinions about his life after the struggles he’d been through.
Will's voice suddenly cut through the crowd, Mike's neck simultaneously snapping towards it like a whip.
“Mike! Is that really you?”
Shit.